


Head and the Heart

by beezyland



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Character Death, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Lance and the Legends, Music, Music Festival Hijinx, Non-Explicit Sex, One Night Stands, Rock Star Sara Lance, Surgeon Alex Danvers, Tattoos, The AU no one asked for, discussion of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 17:12:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14720252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beezyland/pseuds/beezyland
Summary: AU. For the record, Alex didn't even want a live band for her wedding. She was clearly team DJ! And yet, fresh out of a broken engagement, she finds her life inexplicably entwined with Sara Lance, a singer and musician with her smooth words, visible tattoos and penchant for seduction.





	Head and the Heart

The first time they meet, it’s because of Lena Luthor.  
  
Alex is in the middle of an epic battle, fighting to hire a DJ for her upcoming wedding oppose to a live band. Even J’onn takes Alex’s side and with scientific fact to boot! Since Alex loves Maggie, wants to spend the rest of her life with her, she agrees to keep an open mind. That’s when Lena suggests Lance and the Legends.  
  
“They aren’t strictly a wedding band or a wedding band at all,” Lena explains, scrolling through the many contacts in her phone. “But they did this cover of ‘All My Loving’ at a benefit I hosted and it was to die for! A month later, I introduced them to the man who’s in talks to sign them to their first record deal so they can’t say no to me.”  
  
“You want a soon-to-be signed recording artist to play at our tiny wedding?” Alex nearly chokes on her beer, pretending she doesn’t see the way Maggie’s face lights up at the idea alone. “I don’t know…”  
  
“Please,” Lena says like a woman who gets what she wants more often than not. “Anything for friends. I’ll arrange for you to meet the band and hear them play so you’ll at least have the option.”  
  
“It doesn’t hurt to have options, right?” Maggie is all smiles and just pure happiness, so much so Alex finds it hard to say no. “Even if we do go with a DJ, at least we end up with a new up-and-coming local band to listen to.”  
  
“Totally,” Lena agrees. “They hang out in a bit of a sketchy part of town. I’ll have a car drive you there. It’ll be fine!”  
  
“That’s not necessary,” Alex says. “I think we can manage.”  
  
The day they’re scheduled to meet Lance and the Legends, Maggie gets called into work, an emergency at the precinct. Alex nearly cancels, but Maggie pleads with her to go scope them out. Lena went through the trouble to set this up after all. With a kiss and a promise to make it up to her later, Maggie heads to work and Alex follows Lena’s directions to the warehouse district downtown.  
  
Just as she finds spectacular parking, Alex gets a text from Lena saying something came up, but the band is expecting her. Alex hates the idea of wasting anyone’s time so she proceeds on, into the front of a small dive bar called the Waverider. Lena’s text says to walk right in so that’s what Alex does. She follows the sound of music down a narrow hallway to an open space with a small stage towards the back.  
  
The first person Alex sees is a blonde sitting with her legs hanging off the stage. She’s wearing an _I heart Lady Gay Gay_ concert tee with the sleeves torn off, showing off the spectacular definition of her arms and dark jeans with rips in the knees. Her most striking feature is a quarter-sleeve tattoo of two birds—one black and the other white—mirroring each other in flight amongst ocean waves, arrows and daggers. She strums a ukulele and is pretty good at it while the young man next to her sings…a Justin Bieber song through a voice changer microphone that makes his voice sound high and chipmunk-like? This is Lance and the Legends…?  
  
(And, yeah, Alex feels momentarily ashamed she even recognizes the song. It plays on the radio a lot, okay?)  
  
“This is a closed practice!” a voice shouts. Alex realizes the woman behind the drum kit is staring right at her with narrowed, suspicious eyes. Soon, they’re all staring at her.  
  
A man who looks like a Brad Pitt knockoff throws his hands up in the air. “What’s the point of paying Mick to be our security if he let’s any ol’—” He gives Alex a once-over and his tune changes. “—Pretty lady in here.” He’s up and walking toward Alex with a renewed sense of urgency. “Hi. Are you lost? I would be happy to—ow!”  
  
A woman with wild hair and winged eyeliner grabs him by the ear before Alex’s self-defense mechanism kicks in and he ends up on his ass. “Bring it down two levels, Nathaniel. Plus, we pay Mick in beer. Not exactly incentive to do his job.”  
  
“Please excuse my rude friends,” the blonde speaks up. She hands off the ukulele and jumps off the stage in one graceful swoop. Her voice is low, cool, hypnotic. “I’m Sara Lance. How can I be of service?”  
  
In Alex’s head, the Lance of Lance and the Legends is Thor reincarnated, a rock god with hard muscles and long, blonde hair, not...a rock goddess with hard muscles and long, blonde hair. She was somewhat right, but shocked nonetheless.  
  
“Hi!” Alex shouts, just to wonder why she’s shouting. “I’m a friend of Lena’s. Lena Luthor. We were supposed to meet here, but she texted me that something came up right as I parked.  A lot of things came up today apparently.”  
  
Sara tilts her head to one side, the look on her face like a big neon sign just went off in her head. What that neon sign spells out, Alex isn’t sure. “You must be the beautiful bride-to-be I heard so much about.”  
  
Jesus, the knowledge that she’s blushing just makes her blush even harder. All of a sudden, Alex wishes she agreed to have Lena send a car for her with a fully stocked and totally free bar inside. “That’s me. Alex, Alex Danvers.”  
  
Sara presses her lips into a tight smile, resisting a laugh, like something about the way she said that was funny and maybe it was. “Nice to meet you, Alex, Alex Danvers.”  
  
“Listen,” Alex says, looking at the floor as to not drown in Sara’s blue eyes which are only slightly more hypnotic than her tattoos and her voice. “I don’t want to be an inconvenience. I’m sure you have better things to do than perform at a wedding.”  
  
“Nah, it’s cool,” the Justin Bieber Imitator says. “We’re all about that love is love is love.”  
  
“Smooth, Jax,” Sara says sarcastically. “That’s Jax, by the way. He’s on keys most of the time, a synth master and occasional vocalist.” Jax does a little Michael Jackson dance move and salutes her from the stage. “We’ve got Amaya on bass.” The dark-haired woman whomps out a note on her gold and black bass guitar by way of hello. “Zari’s our drummer.” She doesn’t seem any more friendly than when Alex first wandered in. “Nate plays guitar—”  
  
“Technically, I play ten different instruments from five different cultures,” Nate corrects. “But mainly guitar, percussion and mandolin.”  
  
“What he said,” Sara says. “Ray plays the trumpet and piano. He stepped out to make a call, but once he’s back, we can get started. We usually post covers on social media every Friday to, you know, feed the fanbase. Mostly for fun. We’ve already done a few on the playlist you sent me. I have to admit you have pretty good taste in music.”

“Just pretty good?” Alex asks.

Sara smirks. “Well, there wasn’t any Lance and the Legends, was there?”

True.  
  
“I can’t take all the credit,” Alex confesses. “My fiancée gets about half the credit… Okay, more like 60/40 her, but all of the Barenaked Ladies on there, that’s all me.”  
  
“Cool,” Sara says with an amused tilt to her very pink mouth. “Will your fiancée be joining us?”  
  
“Nope. Just me.”  
  
“Well, have a seat.” Sara motions to the nearby couch. “Can I get you a beer or water or something? Gideon’s downstairs if you want something harder.”  
  
“No, thank you. I’m fine.” Alex plops down onto the old couch and sinks deeper than expected. “But would it be okay if I took a video to show Maggie, my fiancée?”  
  
“Cool with me.” Sara glances behind her. “Guys?”  
  
“If you post it online, don’t forget to hashtag Lance and the Legends.” Jax sweeps his hand through the air as of imagining their band name across a marque.  
  
“Until we inevitably change our name _again_ ,” Zari says sourly.  
  
“Nate, grab Ray and tell him he’s needed on the small stage.” Sara leaps back onto the stage as gracefully as she descended. Nate mutters a, “Right away, Captain,” before disappearing out the window and presumably onto the fire escape. Watching Sara swing the microphone around by the chord, Alex is certain the blonde frontwoman can make anything look cool. Sara reattaches the microphone to its stand and leans into it. “Paging Dr. Raymond Palmer and our favorite yoga instructor, Mr. Hair Haywood…”  
  
“Hey! Don’t be hating on yoga!” Nate reappears, followed by a tall dark-haired man who must be Ray. “It paid my rent all through college and got me all the numbers from all the single moms in the mommy and me group next door.”  
  
“Ray,” Sara says, a bit away from the microphone. “This is Alex, Alex Danvers.” And she winks right at Alex, then acts like it never happened. Alex blinks hard and shakes her head. What? “She’s getting married and needs live music.”  
  
“Awesome!” Ray shouts, sounding genuinely excited. “Congratulations!”  
  
“Thank you,” Alex says politely.  
  
“Places, everyone!” Sara shouts in a deeper, mockingly serious voice.  
  
Everyone takes the stage that looks like it can barely hold all of them. They’re an odd bunch. A pack of misfits, for sure, but once they have their instruments in hand and slip into their stage personas, it all comes together.  
  
They begin with a rousing rendition of “You’ve Got the Love” by Florence + the Machine. Alex taps her toes to the beat, imagining Maggie twirling into her arms, sharing their first dance, lights racing across their faces in a room of loved ones.  
  
She’ll admit every member of the band is skilled in their own right, but when things slow down and they transition into a cover of “How Sweet It Is” by the late great Marvin Gaye, it’s hard to look anywhere, but at the lead singer. Her voice is naturally low and alluring, but cheerful like the song. Her stage presence fills the room, reaching out and grabbing Alex in a way no previous live performance has. (And Alex has seen the Barenaked Ladies live in concert _three_ times.) Sara’s so comfortable in her element. Her chemistry with her bandmates is plain to see and her chemistry with the one person audience… Alex wonders if it’d be too obvious if she slipped her leather jacket off. It’s getting a little hot…  
  
The last song is even slower, a song Alex recognizes instantly. “Your Song” by Elton John. Classic.  
  
“ _Anyway, the thing is_ ,” Sara sings, “ _What I really mean, yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen_.” Sara sends another wink Alex’s way. “ _And you can tell everybody this is your song. It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done, I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind, that I put down in words_ …”  
  
“ _How wonderful life is now you’re in the world_ ,” Alex sings quietly under her breath.  
  
At the end of the song, a moment of silence passes through the room. It’s a weighty silence after the emotion of that last song. Sara purses her lips before sending the rest of the band a gracious smile from over her shoulder. “Nice job, guys. Mr. Mandolin could’ve been tighter.”  
  
Nate throws his hands up. “Oh, just pick on the new guy!”  
  
“So what’d you think?” Sara jumps off the stage and lands right in front of Alex with the resounding stomp of her boots.  
  
“You guys are awesome,” Alex says. “I can’t believe I haven’t heard of you sooner.”  
  
“We’ve been keeping a low profile,” Nate says coolly. “And so ready to break out.”  
  
“Miss Luthor has been a big help with that,” Amaya adds.  
  
“I’ll talk to my fiancée and we’ll be in touch,” Alex says. “Thank you for taking the time.”  
  
“It’s our pleasure,” Sara says. “I’ll walk you out.”  
  
A man with snow white hair and thick-rimmed glasses clears his throat, watching Sara expectantly. Her shoulders sag like she just got called to the principal’s office.  
  
“Ray will walk you out,” Sara says reluctantly. “Alex, this is our manager, Martin.”  
  
Martin comes bumbling over with a bright smile to shake Alex’s hand. They chat for a bit before Ray is walking her out to her car, making conversation about how the band got together. Apparently, a former band member, Rip Hunter (such a stage name, no one would actually name their child that), collected them like strays. Creative differences drove Rip outand Sara stepped up and kept the band together. She even recruited Amaya, Nate and Zari herself. Originally, she didn’t want her name in the band name, but they easily outvoted her. She’s their leader and a respected one at that.  
  
Alex thanks Ray and just as she starts to send the videos she took to Maggie, she hears voices from above.

“Do you two have to sit out there while I’m trying to talk to you?”  
  
“Uh, when Nate and Amaya are at each other’s throats in there, that’s an affirmative.”

“We can talk and grab some vitamin D at the same time, can’t we, Martin?”

“Yeah, Gray, what’s the big deal?”  
  
“I don’t mean to waste your precious time, Jefferson, but before we get to that… Miss Lance, when I told you to make a good first impression on Miss Luthor’s friend, I meant make a good first impression, not seduce the poor girl with your siren songs!”  
  
Alex almost laughs out loud. Jax literally does.

Siren songs. Accurate.  
  
“Aye, Gray has a point there, boss. I mean, she’s practically married.” Traces of laughter still linger in Jax’s voice. “Have you no shame, woman?”  
  
“I think I was very professional,” Sara says defensively. “...with the option to seduce her if things don’t work out with the soon-to-be Mrs. Alex, Alex Danvers.”  
  
Alex rolls her eyes and gets into her car as quietly as she can. Typical rock star behavior. Sara Lance probably has groupies in every city, hoes in different area codes and all that nonsense. She’s gorgeous and talented and so cool. It’s actually too easy to imagine...  
  
When her phone vibrates with a text from Maggie that’s just a line of excited emojis and a, “Well?” Alex replies with a “we’ll talk about it tonight” and starts on the drive home.

 

…

 

  
The second time they meet it’s all Kara’s fault.  
  
Nearly three weeks after the engagement is called off, three weeks and four days after Maggie packs up the last of her things and moves out, three weeks into the mourning period, Kara comes barging into Alex’s apartment unannounced. Her ballet flats scream non-negotiable intervention with the way she’s stomping in.    
  
“Alex, I understand you’re in a delicate state right now…” Kara rips the curtains away from the windows and the sun is already setting outside. Still, the older of the two rolls over in her bed and presses her face into a pillow with a groan. “I’m happy you aren’t trying to cope by spending all your time at the hospital, but going out, getting some fresh air for a non-work related activity might not be such a bad idea…”  
  
“Fresh air?” Alex lifts her face from its nest of pillows, her hair sticking up every which way. “And I’m sure you’re just filled with ideas?”  
  
Kara jumps onto the bed and collides with her sister. “Lance and the Legends are playing downtown tonight! Lena and I were supposed to go, but she had a last minute business trip. I’ve been listening to their music and they’re pretty good!”  
  
Lance and the Legends.  
  
The night they cancelled the engagement, the first thing Alex did was cry into a bottle of scotch. The next thing she did was send the Legends’ manager, Martin Stein, an email to say their services were no longer needed. She apologized for wasting their time and left it at that.  
  
“Pass,” Alex says. “I’ve never even listened to their music and I was ready to let them handle my wedding? I just jumped right in like I jump into a lot of things apparently…”  
  
“Hey.” Kara pokes her sister’s pajama-clad leg. “This is exactly why you’re coming out with me tonight!”  
  
Alex collapses back down into the sheets. “No. Ask Winn.”  
  
“He already has his own ticket and a Legends band shirt, which is weird considering Lena says they don’t even have any official merch yet. Come on, Alex! Do your hair! Throw on your leather pants! Let’s go!”  
  
“You know I haven’t worn those leather pants since college! And I’m not looking to squeeze into them or anything anytime soon.”  
  
“Come on!” Kara shakes her arm and bounces on the bed. “Alex! Please! If you won’t do this for yourself then do this for your loving little sister. Please?”  
  
“You aren’t going to leave until I agree, are you?”  
  
“Would I be your sister if I did?”  
  
Kara Danvers is a smart cookie or maybe she just knows her sister that well and pours her a drink to get her ass in gear. Then pours Alex a second drink to get her out the door. A third and she might have even agreed to wear the damn leather pants.  
  
It surprises her that Lance and the Legends are playing at the Waverider. They officially signed with Luthor Records a week after she met them. They should be above playing an eight o’clock time slot at a total dive, but here they are. Alex, Kara and Winn go fairly early so they can open a tab at the bar before grabbing a spot right at the foot of the stage. As it gets closer and closer to showtime, more people start to trickle in until Alex looks behind her and is sure they’ve broken the Fire Code and exceeded the room occupancy.  
  
The opening act is a one man show who calls himself the Music Meister. He fails to hold Alex’s interest as she looks down at her empty cup and back at the bar longingly. When the roadies come out to break down and prep the stage, Alex really considers a trip for a refill. She’s sure she could push her way through the pit back to Kara and Winn no problem.  
  
When the lights dim, delighted sounds erupt from all around. Anticipation so thick in the air, it crackles. The crowd roars with excitement when the band takes the stage. Once again, she can’t seem to tear her eyes away from the lead singer at center stage with her blonde hair slicked back, wearing a halter vest and tight pants, all-white leather. The electric guitar that falls across her body is all black with a white bird on it, exactly like her tattoo.  
  
They don’t even address the audience, just go straight into their opening number. It’s a fast-pace, upbeat song with an infectious beat that just makes you want to dance so they do.  
  
Sara’s voice softens as she sings the end of the song and the lights flash in sync with the music. “Hey, guys. How’s everyone doing tonight?” The audience roars. “Very cool. That song is called ‘Abominations.’ We are Lance and the Legends and we don’t exactly have a set setlist, but when do the Legends ever do what we’re supposed to, right?”  
  
The audience shouts their encouragement.  
  
“You’re all awesome,” Sara continues. “Now that we’re a serious, signed recording artist, The Suits are always telling us to be more ‘profession’ and fall in line like all of their other mindless soldiers.”  
  
Sara’s face twists as she puts actual air quotation marks around the word. The Darth Vader theme starts to play and fog blasts out of tubes on either side of the stage as Nate cups his hands around a microphone and breathes heavily against it. The crowd responds, loving every second.  
  
“So, we thought one last shitshow for the road,” Sara says, met with cheers that only grow louder. “The Suits told us not to play any of the music we’re working on for our upcoming album, but fuck it. This next song is called ‘Camelot/3000.’”  
  
Between their songs, the lighting and the graphics playing on the screen behind them, it’s clear that Lance and the Legends have some weird fascination with time travel. It’s different. Weird in a cool way. They smoothly transition between upbeat, dance songs and slower, moodier ones. It actually feels like they’re on some kind of time adventure.  
  
“This next song is for anyone with a sister,” Sara explains. The bright stage lights turn down, replaced with blue and purple ones that make them look otherworldly, extraterrestrial. “I was always the fuck-up and my sister was the overachieving pain in the ass, but also just…pure goodness. We wasted a lot of time fighting over things that don’t matter anymore. I spend a lot of time wishing I could get that time back… Anyway, this one’s for her and all of you. It’s called ‘Aruba.’”  
  
Before Alex can think too much about Sara, the way she spoke in past tense about her sister and the glimpse of sadness in her shining eyes, she feels Kara’s arm hook around her and tug her in closer. Kara grins at her before turning her attention back to the stage. It’s a sweet song, packed with emotion, but also longing and resign. Alex can’t imagine losing Kara. She hopes she never has to.  
  
Just as the song ends, the lights turn back up and Nate and Amaya start bickering over who gets credit for writing the next song that’s about their breakup that thankfully didn’t break up the band, Alex feels something graze her ass. She turns around to see a man who seems almost too focused on the stage. She faces forward, tries to ignore it. She feels it again, but this time, the hand lingers then moves away quick. Her entire body tenses. Alex waits for it, waits for it...just as the hand returns, cupping this time, Alex grabs his arm and twists. The man cries out.  
  
“Hands off, pervert!” Alex twists his arm harder just to drive the message home. The people around them stare and even back up to give them room.  
  
“Hey!” Sara’s voice blares through the sound system. “We’ve got a strict no sexual harassment policy at our concerts or ever, asshole! Get outta here with that!”  
  
The crowd go wild with support. Alex let’s go of the perv’s arm just as a brick wall of a man with a shaved head and security t-shirt makes his way over. Security grabs the groper roughly by the arm and escorts him through the crowd and to the exit.  
  
When Alex turns her attention back to the stage, Sara is looking right at her, concerned and a little impressed. Feeling bold, Alex holds her stare until Sara has to look away and does so with a smile. After all, the show must go on.  
  
They close out the night with a song called “The Good, The Bad and The Cuddly” that Sara sings and Jax raps over and there are total laser beam sound effects, a Voltron reference and a sample of one of Beebo's catchphrases? Once the band leaves the stage, chased off by thunderous applause, and the lights turn back on, Winn and Kara turn to each other, overstimulated and happy for it. Alex continues to stare at the now empty, smoky space, trying to come down from the high.  
  
“Hey. You.”  
  
Alex turns around to see the crowd dispersing rapidly. Security is standing right behind her with his arms folded and a scowl on his face. Unlike earlier, she notices a ‘hello my name is’ sticker with _Mick_ scrawled on it stuck to the man’s shirt.  
  
“Boss wants to see you.”  
  
Alex blinks. “Me? Is it because of what happened during the show? If anyone should be meeting your boss, it’s that pervert.”  
  
Mick doesn’t look like he even heard any of that. His eyes dart to Kara and then back to Alex. “Skirt can come too.”  
  
Now it’s Kara’s turn to blink. “Who are you calling skirt?”  
  
Yet again, Mick doesn’t seem to be listening, too busy having a good laugh at Winn. “T-Shirt too.”  
  
“What’s happening right now?” Alex asks.  
  
Mick leads them over to the side of the room and he motions to a door with a red employees only sign. Does that lead backstage? Kara and Winn must think the same thing, but have the opposite reaction. The two are absolutely teeming with excitement at the idea of meeting the band. Alex, less so. Last time she saw any of them, she wasted their time, planning a wedding that didn’t happen. Still, when Kara and Winn shuffle ahead, Alex has no choice, but to follow.  
  
He takes them backstage to a small, crowded lounge. The band is there, just as high on Adrenalin it seems. Amaya and Zari laugh, watching Ray fighting with a makeup remover sheet with black blotches all over it. Jax can’t seem to keep still, running around the room with Nate’s fedora in hand. Nate chases him around in a desperate attempt to get it back. Yup, despite all the rock star posturing, they’re still the same Legends she met day one.  
  
“Alex, Alex Danvers.” Sara smirks. And she’s still wearing the all-white leather outfit. Oh.  
  
Alex takes a deep breath and lets it go. She plasters on a smile before introducing Sara to Kara and Winn. Sara takes over from there, introducing her sister and their friend to the rest of the band. They’re all just hanging out on a couch that’s just as ratty as the other one, but this one is blue like Sara’s eyes that keep landing on Alex even as Kara and Winn bombard the band with praise and questions.  
  
Sara oh so casually leans on the arm of the chair Alex is sitting on. “Gotta say, I didn’t expect to see you ever again. And here I thought you hated us. At least, enough to disinvite us from your wedding. How was the honeymoon, by the way?”  
  
Alex twists her fingers together nervously. “Didn’t happen actually… Can’t have a honeymoon if you don’t have a wedding.”  
  
Sara’s face drops. “Shit.”  
  
“Yeah, I’ll take that drink now if you’re still offering.”  
  
“Huh? Oh. All we have backstage is beer and the cheap stuff.” Sara grabs two beers from a cooler and pops the tops off both bottles at the same time, proving yet again that she’s the definition of cool. “There’s a place we go to after gigs if you want to tag along. I asked Mick to bring you back here because I wanted to make sure that asshole didn’t ruin your night.”  
  
“No, it’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine. I had a great time. Not the being groped part, that sucked, but… you played a great show,” Alex says, a rush of words that formed all on the spot. Good one, Danvers. “It’s nice of you to check in with me, but I can take care of myself.”  
  
“Clearly.” Sara gives her a quick once-over. “You’re impressive, I’ll give you that.”  
  
“So are you,” Alex says without thinking. “I mean, your voice is incredible and your music is different from anything I’ve heard before, in a good way…” Alex’s eyes turn down, trying to think of something more to say. “Even your tattoos...”  
  
“Yeah? You like ink?” Sara flexes her toned, tattooed arm. “I went in the first time to get just the one canary, the black one. Then I got the white one for my sister. Then I just kept going back.”  
  
“Any more other than what I can see?”  
  
“This.” Sara twists so Alex can see the dagger on the back of her shoulder with gold trim and a marked blade. “And this.” Sara lifts her arm to show her the neat, black script on the inside of her other arm. _We are not our masks._  
  
“That’s pretty.”  
  
“It’s a reminder,” Sara says. “And I have one more, but you don’t get to see that one just yet.” Another Sara Lance patented wink. She is way too good at that. “What about you?”  
  
“Just one.” Alex sweeps her hair aside to reveal a little tattoo on the nape of her neck. A single line of black ink weaves and winds across her pale skin, forming half a brain and half a heart as one.  
  
“Head and the heart,” Sara says. “Nice.”  
  
“When I was at Stanford, let’s just say I went through a phase. I knew I was going to be a surgeon, but I was split between neurology and cardiology. I went in wanting something a little more anatomically correct, but the artist convinced me to go minimalist and a little whimsy.”  
  
“Was she cute?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“The tattoo artist. She must’ve been cute.”  
  
Alex has never thought about it before. That was a time before she even really knew who she was and what she wanted. Yeah, the tattoo artist was nice, understanding and even comforting when Alex nearly chickened out. Thinking about it now, she might have been attractive—  
  
Her breath hitches when she feels Sara’s fingertips ghost over her tattoo. When Alex looks over her shoulder, the blonde just smirks and squints her eyes. Also attractive. Jesus. That thought. And she isn’t even halfway through her beer.  
  
“So what was it then?” Sara doesn’t break eye contact even as she takes a swig of her own beer. “Head or the heart?”  
  
“I’m a neurosurgeon at National City General.”  
  
Sara raises her eyebrows. “So you’re a doctor. Dr. Alex, Alex Danvers. I wanted to be a doctor when I was a kid.” Sara lifts her arms to indicate their surroundings. Definitely not an OR. “You just get more and more impressive by the second, don’t you?”  
  
Before Alex can respond, a woman slips between them to press a napkin into Sara’s hand and whisper in her ear. A sly smirk tugs at Sara’s lips while Alex just sits there, so awkward, wondering if now would be a good time to edge closer to Kara, who’s laughing along with the band at Winn’s defense of his homemade band tee. The woman disappears a moment later, but not before giving Sara one last glance that’s pure meet-me-in-the-bathroom-for-tantric-sex-in-five.  
  
Sara leans back toward Alex, creating a closeness that was there just a few seconds ago, a closeness that formed without Alex even noticing until the spell was broken. “I bet you have a ton of gnarly stories from the ER.”  
  
_Really? We’re just going to pretend that didn’t happen?_ Alex doesn’t realize she said that aloud until Sara’s pursing her lips and leaning away. Nice, Danvers. Yet again. Might as well have asked her, _groupie or girlfriend?_  
  
“That was Guinevere,” Sara says. “A friend.”  
  
“With an option to seduce later?” Alex finishes her beer and leaves the glass bottle on the coffee table. “Thanks for inviting us back here, but we should probably—”

“Mick, spit it out!” Amaya shouts.

Both turn in perfect synchronization, looking over to where Mick, the security guy, is standing over a platter of chicken wings, trying to cough and slamming a fist against his chest. He can’t speak, can’t cough, can’t cry out.

“Fine, I’ll take one for the team,” Nate says. “Just open your mouth and maybe I can just—”

“No!” Alex marches over, going into doctor mode. “Don’t put your fingers anywhere near his mouth. He might bite you accidentally.”

Mick falls to his knees, looks like he might pass out, so Alex stands behind him, supports his chest with one hand and delivers a sharp blow between Mick’s shoulder blades with the heel of her other hand. Everyone else jumps away. Nate, Ray and Winn shout, “Oh!” simultaneously. Alex hits him again and again, same place, same technique and finally, Mick spits up a chicken bone. An entire chicken bone!

“I don’t think you’re supposed to eat that part,” Zari says in that dry way she does.

“That was wild!” Jax shouts. “How did none of us get that on video?”

“That was awesome!”  Nate shouts even louder. “Mick, choke on something else so she can do it again!”

Mick plops down on his butt and looks up at Alex with awe in his eyes. “You saved my life. I should’ve kicked the shit outta the guy who grabbed your ass.”

Alex smile sheepishly. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“Let us repay you by buying you dinner, all of you,” Sara suggests. “We go to a diner that spikes the milkshakes if we ask nicely. Who knows? This one might need your assistance again.”

Alex avoids looking at Kara and Winn because she already knows they’re jumping to agree.

“I think you’ll be fine on your own,” Alex says instead. “I have an early start in the morning, but it was nice seeing you again. All of you. Congrats on the record deal, by the way.”  
  
Sara appears disappointed or confused because she doesn’t get turned down too often. The latter is easier to believe. “Alright then. Catch you on the other side, Danvers.”

  
  
…

 

  
The next time they meet it’s at a wedding.  
  
Barry Allen and Iris West’s wedding to be exact. Alex doesn’t know either of them, but Kara does from college and had a plus-one. Why not spend a weekend in Central City?  
  
Imagine Alex’s surprise when she sees the blonde frontwoman laughing at the bar, engaging in what appears to be flirty conversation with another blonde with glasses. Why is Alex not surprised? She thinks about just ducking and sticking close to Kara the whole night, but then their eyes meet from across the room and Sara gets that look on her face, the one she gets when she’s excited to play a new song for an audience.  
  
Ever since seeing Lance and the Legends live, Alex downloaded their singles and EPs and even the covers they post online for free. She keeps them on her phone and listens to them when commuting, during her lunch break and before she goes to sleep at night. She also looked them up on social media and lingered on Sara’s instagram more than she will ever admit.

(It’s a miracle she didn’t wear out the play button on a video of Sara crushing the salon ladder, wearing a sports bra and yoga pants no less.)  
  
Kara gave her a raised eyebrow when Alex started her car and Sara’s voice blasts from the speakers, raging about “The Legion of Doom” a metaphor for evil men in positions of power or something. Alex didn’t know what to say to that, how to explain herself or if she even needed to, so she didn’t.  
  
“Oh hi!” Kara waves Sara over. Traitor.  
  
“Hey, Kara.” Sara walks over with a confident, always confident sway in her hips. “Dr. Alex, Alex Danvers.”  
  
“Are you going to say my name like that every time we see each other?”  
  
“I also like just Doctor Danvers, but I thought I’d save that for a different occasion.”  
  
“Well, okay then,” Kara interrupts, already inching away from the two. “I am going to congratulate the bride and groom. You two have fun catching up!”  
  
Kiara close to sprints away. Double traitor.  
  
“So, are you performing tonight or something?” Alex asks.  
  
“Contrary to popular belief, I do get invited to weddings I’m not asked to work at,” Sara says, but her voice is mostly amused. Alex feels just about ready to die. “But knowing this group plus alcohol, the probability of spontaneous karaoke is pretty high. Makes for good, cheap entertainment.”  
  
“I’m so sorry,” Alex says, slapping a hand against her forehead. “You’d think I’d know better than to make assumptions at this point.”  
  
“You can make it up to me by letting me buy you a drink.”

Alex responds with a knowing expression. “It’s an open bar.”

“In that case, let me buy you two.”

When Alex orders scotch, Sara insists the bartender leave the bottle and she really must have some kind of cool girl Jedi mind tricks because the bartender does. They toast to the bride and groom. Then they toast to making things go away. They even toast to the taste of scotch. Then they end up a tangle of lips and limbs and hair against a wall just outside the ballroom. The groom might have literally squeaked when he caught sight of them then continued back inside, minding his own damn business like a gentleman.

“Wanted to do this since… Since you first walked into the Waverider.” Sara kisses her, open-mouth and hot as they maneuver into the elevator, not losing contact with each other, not once. “Since…I caught you being nosy and listening to Martin scold me n’ Jax.”

“ _No_. I caught _you_. Womanizer.”

Sara cards her fingers through Alex’s hair. “It’s cute you think that, Dr. Alex, Alex D—”

Alex cuts her off, their mouths slotting together yet again. It’s messy, all heat and all-consuming desire overriding all sense and reason. Soft skin and hard muscles. Warm and wet. The way they move together and the breathless sounds they make, it’s like a fucking symphony, fast and hard, then slow and tortuous, volleying back and forth, building and building, drawing out deep, long moans and sharp, harsh breaths. Chasing the crash again and again.

  
Alex wakes up first the next morning, head pounding, terrified at the sight of the blonde rock goddess trying to pull her closer to snuggle. Snuggle! Alex clasps a hand over her mouth to keep from making a sound. The only way this can get worse if it Sara wakes up. Despite the pain behind her eyes trying to lull her back to sleep, the loneliness she carries begging for her to snuggle back for just a little, Alex moves as quietly as she can, slips into her dress, grabs her heels and sneaks out the door.

On the way home, Alex endures some light ribbing from her sister and starts to feel a little bad for leaving without saying anything or at least leaving a note. When a Lance and the Legends song comes up on shuffle, a song about worshipping women all throughout time (aptly entitled “Raiders of the Lost Art”), Alex convinces herself it should be okay. Sara Lance with her limitless options and opportunities will probably appreciate the night they had then forgot all about her anyway.

 

...

 

The third time they meet, it’s totally Lena and Kara and Winn’s fault. Alex prefers to spend her time off sleeping in her bed, but somehow those three manage to team up against her and convince her to go to a weekend long music festival that’s out in the middle of nowhere.

(“Don’t worry,” Lena assures them. “You’re traveling with me. We won’t be sleeping in a puddle of mud with strung-out hipsters unless you’re into that sort of thing. What I’m saying is have a little faith.”)

The opposite of a puddle of mud turns out to be a hotel of luxury yurts. Alex insists she wouldn’t mind sharing the spacious cylindrical room, but Lena booked all four of them their own so she isn’t going to be rude. It doesn’t surprise anyone that Lena has flashy, meticulously planned outfits for each day and Kara is technically working at the event, doing a write-up for CatCo’s website. It isn’t even surprising that Lance and the Legends are performing. Seeing Sara Lance’s pink hair is.

Lance and the Legends aren’t mega famous (yet) so they’re performing earlier in the day and on one of the smaller stages. It’s a lot more casual. Sara’s wearing a white crop top, dark fitted jeans with the knees shredded to hell and classic Sk8-Hi Vans. Sculpted abs on full display, but not the tattoo on her hip that Alex sort of worshipped with her tongue the night of the wedding. Then there's the way her hair is some washed-out happy medium between hot pink and blonde, loose and freely flowing down her back. Sara Lance is so gorgeous it isn’t fair.

It’s outdoors and the sun feels nice against her skin. It’s nice to be away from the hospital even though it’s rare the hospital isn’t on her mind. It’s kind of nice to be sipping on a spiked slushie, in a crowd of what must be thousands, dancing with her sister and their friends, losing herself in the music and Sara’s voice rhyming assassin with passion. It shouldn’t be surprising that Sara can dance, raising her arms up and moving her hips. It shouldn’t be surprising when Nate whispers something to Sara between songs and suddenly Lena’s being lifted onto the stage, then Kara, Winn and her.

“Long time no see, Dr. Danvers,” Ray says politely. He’s dripping sweat and his eyeliner is smeared, but none of this diminishes his smile.

“You too, Ray.”

“Hey, stranger.” Sara leans on the microphone stand, eyeing Alex deliberately. She’s just as sweaty and it shouldn’t be so hot that her super thin top clings to her skin. Then her eyes sweep back over the literal thousands beyond the stage. “So,” Sara says into the microphone. “If you know anything about us, we like to fuck around with covers in our free time.”

“I believe the word is butcher,” Zari argues, twirling a drumstick between her fingers coolly. “We butcher perfectly fine songs in our free time.”

“And the people love it!” Nate jumps onto a speaker and holds his arms out toward the audience as if to embrace them. The crowd cheers him on.

“You can’t listen to them. They’re all drunk,” Zari says. And the crowd roars even louder.

“Sorry, Z, but I gotta side with Nate on this one,” Jax says. “Uh, Rihanna liked one of the covers we tweeted out. It happened! I swear! How dope is she?”

“So dope,” Nate and Amaya agree.

As they continue the onstage banter they’re known for, Ray sets up a microphone off to the side of the stage where Alex and her friends have been standing.

“Guys,” Amaya calls out. “We’ve gone off on a tangent again.”

“Right,” Sara says. “So this song, total classic, total Legends MO. And if you know the words…” Sara shoots Alex a glance. “Don’t be shy. Sing along.”

Alex recognizes the song at the opening chords alone. “It’s All Been Done” by Barenaked Ladies.

“ _I met you before the fall of Rome_ ,” Sara sings. “ _And I begged you to let me take you home. You were wrong, I was right. You said goodbye, I said goodnight_.”

“ _Woo hoo hoo_ ,” the rest of the band coos.

_“It’s all been done.”_

“ _Woo hoo hoo,_ ” Kara and Lena and Winn join in.

_“It’s all been done.”_

Once the initial surprises passes and thanks to a shake from Kara, Alex sings along and gets into the song, dancing on stage at a huge concert with her sister and her friends and a rock star stealing glances at her. Maybe it’s the alcohol or the heat or both, but Alex accepts and invites the glances. As stupid as it sounds and as wrong as it probably is, it almost feels like Sara is singing to her, just her. And that squirming, overheated feeling she gets around Sara Lance is back in full force.

“Why ‘It’s All Been Done’?” Alex asks after the show. The band invites them backstage for tequila shots and lime wedges. Mouth puckered and filled with liquid courage, Alex somehow finds a moment alone with Sara while her friends and the band are debating what other bands they should check out now that they’re free to do as they please. “I mean, other than the nod to time travel you Legends seem to love and the concrete fact that it’s awesome.”

“Don’t forget the sweet melodies,” Sara adds, draining her bottle of water. That was obviously Kara and Lena’s favorite part. Winn just had to do a little air guitar during the guitar solo that Nate crushed. “But seriously, I don’t know. The song came up on shuffle the other day and it reminded me of you.”

Hearing that, Alex _has_ to kiss her so she does. How can she not? Kissing Sara is starting to feel familiar, the shape of her mouth, the taste of her (tequila and lime and pink bubble gum), the husky sound Sara makes right before pressing back and delving deeper.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Alex mutters.

Sara chuckles, a blast of hot against Alex’s neck that leaves a trail of goosebumps behind. “All the girls wish.”

Alex does not doubt this. She’s about to say so, but Sara kisses her again and everything else just seems less important than the grip of Sara’s hands on her waist and the desperate need to be closer. Someone (Mick maybe?) shouts, “Get a room!” And Sara’s hand only leaves Alex’s side long enough to flip him off.

“Quit watching, Nathaniel.” That’s definitely Amaya.

“Yeah, pervert.” Zari.

“Can y’all hurry the hell up? Suicide Squad’s performing on the main stage! Leggo!”

Bless Jax.

“Where are you staying?” Sara circles Alex’s hip bone with her thumb and even that is hypnotic. “Because we aren’t famous enough to afford better accommodations than a single trailer built for four, not so much six and a Mick.”

“Don’t worry.” Alex gets distracted, twining a wisp of blonde and pink hair around her finger. “I have a yurt.”

“Fancy,” Sara laughs huskily. “I take it you like the pink?”

Alex hums. “S'hot.”

And then they’re kissing again.

This time is different from the time at the West-Allen wedding. _A good different_ , Alex thinks. Hopes. Fears. The sex is still mind-blowingly good. Not that there was any doubt there. Sara is clearly a giver, enthusiastic and thorough. Alex feels like she is being worshipped and she’s sure to give as good as she gets. Sara Lance, beautiful with nothing, but white sheets around her, _giggling_ beneath her. Under the badass cool and hard edges, Sara is soft, kisses sweetly, makes every touch linger, mean something.

Then there’s the talking between orgasms. They talk about their lives, their complicated families, their love for their sisters, their favorite music from the early 2000s. They both saw Birds of Prey on their Gail Simone tour, just two different shows in two different cities, but days apart. Is she the only one that kind of finds that romantic? Like somehow they were connected before they even met and through music no less. Or maybe she’s still a little drunk from day-drinking, drunk on adrenaline from being on stage in front of thousands and still completely drunk on Sara.

Alex can’t stop playing with Sara’s hair and tracing over her tattoos, especially the clutter of symbols on her hip. Sara has such a thing for Alex’s cheekbones and clavicle and the length and nape of her neck. She almost doesn’t want to fall asleep because there’s no telling what tomorrow will bring, but it’s hard not to let herself be lulled to sleep with Sara singing quietly and continuing to card her fingers through her hair.

This time, when Alex wakes up, she’s the one who’s alone in bed. Natural light streaming into the yurt, which works with the whole aesthetic of this place, but needs to go away until after the hangover fades. No sign of Sara except the hotel notepad left on the nightstand. A message hastily scrawled on:

_I had to catch an early flight out and didn’t want to wake you. Let’s keep meeting like this. - Sara :P_

Her handwriting is big and loopy and somehow the large smiley face with the lolling tongue captures her personality perfectly.

Yes, Sara also left her phone number.

Alex presses her face into a pillow.

“This has to stop,” she murmurs. But even she can admit, that isn’t what she wants at all.

 

…

 

 _Wanna taste your scotch dripping lips  
_ _Come on, come back_

Alex sputters when she hears that familiar, sexy voice playing over the speakers at Jitters. Is that Sara?

 _National City Girl  
_ _I swear your touch stops time    
_ _National City Girl    
_ _Sweet like liquor and lime_

No.

No, no, no, no, no!

It has to be about someone else.

It can’t be…

“Hello! Earth to Alex! The barista called your name like three times!” Kara shoves a coffee cup towards Alex’s hand, but she can’t move to grab it. She can’t move at all. “Alex, is something wrong? You look all pale and sweaty…”  
  
“Fine!” Alex yells. Yells. More than a few people turn to look, but Alex is on a mission to get her sister out of the cafe before—  
  
“Is that Sara singing?” Kara asks, finally hearing the song.

 _National City Girl  
Supernovas for eyes  
_ _National City Girl  
__The heat between your—_

Alex covers her sister’s ears. Kara may be a tad naive, but she’s a grown woman and it’s pretty obvious. Damn rhyming! The realization—rude ass assumption, really—dawns on Kara, whose eyes widen and jaw drops simultaneously. “Oh. My. Rao! That’s Lance and the Legends! Alex! Is she singing about you? Are you National City Girl?!”  
  
“SHHHHH!” Alex grabs Kara by the wrist and uses all her strength to haul her out the door. Kara is no help in the matter, nearly falling over with laughter. “You don’t know that! It could be anyone! There are millions of women in National City! And Sara, you know, knows a lot of people and she’s...charismatic.”  
  
Kara nearly drops the two coffees in her hands, stricken with a case of the giggles. Alex hangs her head and crosses her arms, resigned to letting Kara get it out of her system.  
  
“Great. This song is going to blow up and I’m going to have to hear a sexy song about my sister on the radio every day.” Kara makes a face. “I guess it’s better than a song about, oh, how you haven’t called her yet!”  
  
“Because I’m not going to call her, Kara.”  
  
“Why not?” Kara nearly pouts. “You always look happier after one of your run-ins that always happen to turn into something more.”  
  
“Please don’t start talking about fate before I have any caffeine.” Alex snatches a coffee cup out of Kara’s hand, taking a sip without checking if it’s actually hers or not. “Or alcohol.”  
  
“Tell me why not,” Kara says stubbornly. “You like Sara. I can tell.”  
  
“Just because we have a good time when we’re together doesn’t mean we should date.” Alex hasn’t even thought about seriously dating anyone after Maggie. The idea along makes her palms sweat.  
  
“Um, how about the fact that she sang a Barenaked Ladies song for you and now she wrote a song about you!”  
  
“It’s not going to work out, Kara.”  
  
“How do you know that without even calling her?”  
  
“Because! I’m a surgeon and she’s this wild, incredible rock star hurricane with _visible tattoos_ and it just can’t. We don’t make sense together. We’ve had...moments, sure, but there’s no conceivable way we fit into each other’s lives. No.”  
  
“You’re selling yourself short,” Kara says sadly. “And I feel like you should know better than to underestimate Sara Lance.”  
  
Alex doesn’t know what to say to that. She’s half-glad Lena walks out of the cafe to save her from replying, but only half because Lena is singing.  
  
“ _National City Girl_!” Lena belts out, leaning on Kara’s shoulder and smirking at Alex like she knows some dirty little secret. “ _I wanna go down, down, down, down! Down, down, down, down on_ —”  
  
“I hate you both.” Alex storms off, but their laughter follows her all the way to the parking lot.

  
  
…

 

One morning, Alex goes into work and there’s an envelope waiting for her. Inside are VIP passes to a Justice League concert happening at the area downtown. In smaller print, it says Lance and the Legends are the opening act. They’re clearly on their way up. The concert isn’t for another month so Alex is yet to have an excuse to not go.

She hasn’t called Sara or even texted her since getting her number. She’s thought about it and went as far as transferring Sara’s number into her phone, but what would she even say? What does one say to someone they’ve had a one night stand with two separate times now?

Then Sara’s dad dies.

He’s a deputy mayor and former police captain so it makes state-wide and even national news. Complications during surgery. He already had a pacemaker, a weak heart, but judging by all the people who mourn him, he had a big one. Lance and the Legends drop out of the Justice League tour and cancel all future appearances for the time being.

Alex still doesn’t call. If she didn’t know what to say before, now…

“Kara, no.”

“Alex! Please, please, please, please, please!”

“Why me?”

“Because you and Sara—”

“Forget I asked.”

“Please,” Kara nearly whines. “I don’t even want to do this! She just lost her dad and they want me to interview her? Who does that?”

“Then why are you doing it?”

“You’ve met Cat Grant. She isn’t the kind of woman you say no to and not to mention my boss! Sara refused to do the interview until they told her _I_ would be the one conducting it and if you don’t think her agreeing to do it has a little something to do with you, well, I have some news for you, sis.”

“Kara!”

“Please just come with me to Central City?” Kara’s eyes get all big and pleading and she looks like she might cry. Alex knows from past experience (their entire upbringing) that Kara won’t actually cry, but damn is that technique effective.

“I don’t know if I have time off—”

“I already scheduled it on your next off day. We’re taking the CatCo jet. It’ll just be a night.”

“Fine,” Alex gives in like she often does.

Alex is too nervous on the way to Central City to rest. They meet at the Central City Plaza Hotel, where they check into a room for the night — all on CatCo’s dime. One room with two beds. Not that Alex expects anything to happen with Sara. She just lost her dad and this is a work thing for Kara so Alex is determined to act professionally damn it.

It’s striking how soft and sad Sara looks when they meet in the hotel lobby. The pink is long gone from her hair that’s pulled up in a simple, high ponytail. Her face is makeup free and she’s wearing a black wool sweater and black jeans. She’s mourning. It must be torture for her to have to drag herself here and put herself through this.

“Hi, Sara.” Kara couldn’t keep the sympathy off her face if she tried. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances. I promise to make this as quick and painless as possible.”

“It’s no problem,” Sara assures her. “I know what it’s like to have a pushy employer.”

Relief floods Kara’s face. “Thank you for being so understanding! Um, should we grab a table at the cafe and get this over with?”

Sara forces a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes whatsoever and heads toward the hostess stand just outside the entrance to the hotel cafe. She doesn’t even acknowledge Alex. She didn’t even look at her. It’s surprising how much that hurt.

Kara silently cringes, sympathy back in full force. “I’ll text you when we’re done.”

“Yeah, sure,” Alex agrees. “I’ll just wait for you up in the room, see what’s on TV.”

Alex stands in the lobby a little longer, watching as a waiter shows Kara and Sara to a table near the wall of glass separating the cafe from the rest of the hotel. It isn’t hard to imagine what Sara must be going through. Alex lost her own father and all these years later, she can recognize it as what triggered that phase she went through, all the careless partying, the relentless chase to get out of her own head.

“You must be Alex.”

Alex’s head whips around to see a woman she’s sure she’s never met before. The woman smiles like she knows her, but that can’t be true.

“Or do you prefer Dr. Danvers?”

“Alex is fine. Um, have we met before?”

The woman laughs and it’s rich and sweet like honey. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. I’m Sara’s mom, Dinah.”

Alex straightens her posture. “Oh! Hi. I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Lance. It’s nice to meet you. I— Sara told you about me?”

The woman makes a face like she had just been caught doing something she shouldn’t. “Not in so many words. The Legends, on the other hand… They’re a loquacious, some would say gossipy bunch. They love telling the story about Mick and the chicken wing. And I might have recognized you from a photo my daughter might keep on her phone.”

Alex tries her best to swallow the knot in her throat, looking back over at the two blondes sitting at a little table across the way just as a waiter delivers their drinks—water for Kara and decidedly not water for Sara. “Your daughter is very talented. Musically! And… She’s a good person.”

“Yes, she is,” Dinah agrees. “I didn’t always agree with her choices, especially when she was younger. Her father was a good cop, a good man, her sister was just starting out as a lawyer.” Dinah’s eyes mist over and she has to pause to keep herself together. “I’m a professor at Central City University. I always wished Sara would choose a profession more along those lines. I was afraid she was running with the wrong crowd when she decided to pursue music and especially after losing Laurel… but it’s good she has people like you and the Legends in her life. Thank you for that.”

“You shouldn’t. I—”

Dinah squeezes her hand and Alex loses all ability to talk. “She might push you away. Lord knows she did the same to me and her father after Laurel… That’s just grief, i guess. She has to navigate the grief on her own, I know, but that doesn’t mean she needs to be alone.”

“She’s lucky to have you, Mrs. Lance.”

“Us. She’s lucky to have us.”

 

After parting ways, Dinah having to rush off to a faculty meeting, Alex returns to the room and flops onto the bed. After losing Jeremiah, she was a mess. A bitchy, smartass mess who tried to escape inside of a bottle and even ended up sleeping off a hangover in jail once. She doesn’t know if there’s anything anyone could have said to save her from hitting rock bottom head first. She doesn’t know what she’d say to Sara or if she even should.

There’s a knock on the door and Alex figures Kara misplaced her key or something, but when she answers it, Sara rushing inside. Before Alex can form a coherent thought, let alone words, Sara kisses her hard. It’s different from any other time. It’s rough and desperate and cold.

“So, we doing this or what?” Sara shuts the door and starts to take her sweater off.

Alex is sure she looks like a deer in headlights. “I don’t know about that. Kara could be here any second.”

Sara shrugs her shoulders, eyes half-lidded, drunk or maybe high on something, completely lifeless. She traces her fingers over the waistband of Alex’s jeans like she hadn’t heard, like she doesn’t care. Alex takes both of Sara’s hands in hers.

“How about some water? Did you have anything to eat at lunch?” Alex asks. When the blonde doesn’t respond, Alex sighs, squeezes her hands. “Sara, you’re upset and you have every right to be. If you want to talk—”

“Why are you pretending like you care?” Sara’s words are like a slap across the face. The slurring doesn’t make it hurt any less. “All this has ever been to you is a casual fuck, right? It’s just sex so let’s get to it. Whether we talk or not never mattered to you before.”

Alex does what’s easiest—deflects. “Did it matter to you?”

“Do you think I’d do all of that—” Sara motions all around them, staggering on her feet. “—for just anyone?”

“I don’t kn—”

“Well, I don’t. Not that it matters to you or ever did. But what did I expect, right? You’re this surgeon and I’m…” Sara motions to herself. “So are we going to do this or? If not, I’m sure I gave your sister enough to paint me as the tragic, drunk fuck-up I am and sell all the magazines n' clicks. I’ll just, I'll go.”

“Sara…”

“Don’t worry, I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a long time now.”

“ _Sara_.” Alex’s voice is firm as she grabs Sara by the arm to keep her from leaving. Sara tries to push her away and she’s strong, could break her hold, could hurt her, but it’s half-hearted at best. In the end, Alex manages to guide Sara to sit on the edge of one of the two beds and lets her bury her face in her shoulder. It’s like Sara’s trying to cry, but can’t. Alex keeps an arm across Sara’s back and rubs a comforting hand up and down the length of her arm.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says quietly. “I should have treated you better. I was so caught up in my own shit and I thought—”

“Don’t,” Sara hisses into her neck, but doesn’t try to pull away. “I can’t with your pity right now.”

It’s not pity, but she can see how that could be hard to decipher right now. Maybe there’s no fixing their relationship. Relationship? Is that what it is? Maybe that ship sailed and Alex knows she doesn’t have anyone to blame but herself.

“I lost my dad too,” Alex whispers instead, pressing her cheek to the top of Sara’s head as the blonde curls closer. “At first I thought I had to be the strong one for my mom and for Kara while I felt like…like I was being torn up from the inside out. I know it’ll sound harsh, but I think if anyone would understand, it’s you. Grief, it’s lonely. We can talk about it, that’s all my mom and Kara ever tried to get me to do, but I’m still not sure it did me any good. Ultimately, whatever you take from it is up to you and it is what it is... Sara?”

Alex feels the weight of her nestled in the crook of her neck. When she leans away, Sara starts to fall into her. Eyes closed. Passed out. Alex gingerly lays Sara’s head down on a pillow, carefully removes Sara’s boots and tucks her in beneath the sheets. Alex dims the lights then stretches out on the other side of the bed, on top of the sheets and sure to maintain the large, respectful space between them.

Her eyes close just a minute, she tells herself, but when Alex opens them, it’s dark out and Sara is gone. She’s glad she wrote her number down on a slip of hotel paper and slipped it into the pocket of Sara’s sweater before dozing off. Not that she expects to hear from Sara or expects Sara to ever want to see her or hear from her ever again.

 

...

 

Alex totally trusts Kara and knows she isn’t going to write some gross article dragging Sara through the mud, especially with what she’s going through, but that doesn’t stop her from asking about a billion times. The day the article goes live, Alex spends eight hours in the OR, performing a particularly tricky procedure.

The second she gets a moment alone, Alex props up her sore feet and pulls up the article.

_Sara Lance: Out of Time_

_The whimsy debut album obsessed with time travel inspires personal reflection on the experience of losing loved ones and may be the perfect vehicle to explore the act of grieving._

_By Kara Danvers_

Alex takes a deep breath.

Oh boy.

She barely gets past the first line before she has to stop.

_I promised myself I wouldn’t tell Sara Lance about my parents._

Alex swipes out Safari on her phone, ops to save it for later, when she’s alone at home in her little studio apartment so she can break down without an audience of interns who are already scared shitless of her. Who knows how they would react if they saw her having a good old-fashion cry at work?

And Alex does. Tears run down her cheeks as she reads the article that’s less about Sara and the clips of her shoving and throwing punches at paparazzi who try to ambush her outside of clubs and bars. More a conversation between Kara and Sara about how they might not be able to go back in time to save the ones they love from dying, but they can go back in time through memories, carry the good ones with them as they try to figure out how to forge on. They ask a lot of questions that aren’t easily answered, a lot of “I don’t know” answers and ellipsis. A mutual agreement that writing helps both of them.

About a month after, two dozen yellow roses end up on Kara’s desk at CatCo. That’s how long it takes Sara to actually read the article and her way of showing appreciation.

“Just call her already!” Kara slams her palm against the scuffed bar at everyone’s favorite place to unwind after work.

“You’re drunk,” Alex says, leisurely sipping her beer bottle. 

“I am drunk!” Kara slaps the bar again and her glasses go a little askew on the bridge of her nose. “And I am telling you to get over yourself and call her!”

“I gave her my number. If she wanted to talk, she would have called by now…” Alex frowns, staring hard at the condensation on her glass bottle. “I should have called after the music festival. Now things are too… I waited too long and things are too messy.”

“That’s what happens when you get to know people! Everyone is messy! All things are messy! Life is about finding messes we can live with and be messy with and...and…” Kara wobbles on her barstool and her attention wanes. “Winn! Is it my turn to sing?”

“Yeah!” Winn shouts back, just as drunk.

“Do they have National City Girl?” Lena shouts from wherever she is.

“No!” Alex groans into her hands. “I am begging you. _Please_.”

“I’m kidding.” Lena squeezes between them, throwing an arm around each Danvers sister. “I hear she’s doing good. Locked herself away in her apartment, dried out, wrote enough to make a whole new album. I second the notion to call her or at least start with a text?”

Alex thinks about that for a long time. Then she starts with a text.

_Do you hate me?_

And regrets it. Maybe starting with _hi_ or _hey_ or _how are you_ might have been better.

And Sara replies, _no_. That’s it. Alex stares at her phone until the screen goes dark with inactivity.

“Helpful,” Alex mutters, turning over in her bed.

_How are you? I realize I should’ve started with that…_

_Ok_ , Sara replies.

 _Good_ , Alex answers. _That’s good._

Alex thinks that’s it. That’s the end of it. Maybe that constitutes closure in this situation? At least she knows Sara’s alive and funneling her grief into creative and professional endeavors. Maybe she can make peace with everything, knowing that Sara is a survivor and even if she isn’t okay now, she will be. Alex believes that. 

Then her phone buzzes again. It’s a video. Sara sitting on a stool with an acoustic guitar, her hair loose and falling in a sheer over her face. She lets her fingers dance across the strings, creating a melody that’s pretty, but sad.

_Thoughts?_

Alex quickly typed back, _needs lyrics._

Her phone dings almost immediately after.

_Needs lyrics? Why didn’t I think of that? Mind blown!_

Then another:

_Who dis btw? Ava from Luthor Records right?_

Alex’s heart sinks. Before she can even think of how to reply, she gets yet another from Sara:

_jk Dr Danvers_

Alex let’s out a huff of breath. _Jerk._

_:P_

And that’s how it goes for a while. They text. Sara sends her snippets of things she’s working on and Alex tries to be helpful and hopefully make Sara laugh or at least smile by being the dork she is. A week later they graduate to FaceTime and Skype calls. Sometimes the Legends crash their calls, whining for Sara to focus on whatever they’re practicing, but also each wanting to say hi to Alex and occasionally show her a mole and ask if it’s worrying (Okay, that was Ray and only one time).

Sometimes Sara calls during game night at Kara’s and Alex answers so the gang can say hi. Every time they talk, Alex wants to ask when they might see each other again face-to-face, but chickens out every time. They talk, just talk and Alex considers them to be friends. Why mess with a good thing? So she swallows the question, trades Sara gross stories from the hospital for hearing her sing and tells herself this is enough.

 

...

 

  
The next time they meet actually is a coincidence. At least, it seems like a coincidence to Alex. She’s surprised to see Sara anyway.  
  
It happens in the pediatric ward of the hospital. Alex just likes to walk through on her lunch break, check in with the pediatric doctors and nurses. There was a super brief time Alex considered making pediatrics her specialty, but when J’onn took her under his wing, neurology was the only choice. Seeing children well enough to finally go home never ceases to make her day though. It makes all of the long hours, little sleep and almost no social life worth it.  
  
Something or rather someone, has the kids and even the nurses all giggling amongst themselves. And when Alex sees what all the commotion is about, it isn’t hard to see why.  
  
“ _Little bird, little bird, fly around_ ,” Sara sings to the tune of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” while strumming her guitar. “ _Up to the sky, down to the ground. Little bird, little bird, flap your wings. Open your beak and sweetly sing. Little bird, little bird, fly to your nest. Now it’s time to take a rest_.”

“No!” The kids around her shout while clapping their hands. “No naps no!”

“Your voice is pretty, Miss Sara,” a shy little girl says.  
  
“Thanks, kiddo,” Sara replies. “I bet your voice is pretty too. Wanna sing the next one with me? What does everyone wanna hear?”

The children sitting in a half-moon around Sara all raise their hands and shout suggestions all at once. Some might be overwhelmed, surrounded by children, especially sick children, but Sara just smiles her softest, most genuine smile. Yeah, Alex can’t blame Nurse Carlisle for the way she’s making eyes at Sara, not at all.

“I hear Lance and the Legends do a mean Justin Bieber cover,” Alex says.

Sara finally notices her and the way she drinks in the sight of Alex in her white lab coat has to be inappropriate in front of the kids, but they’re young, it probably goes right over their heads. Hopefully.

“Thank you, Dr. Danvers.” Sara’s sarcasm goes right over their heads too. “The Beebs it is!”

The kids sing along to a rousing rendition of “Baby” which the older adolescent girls know by heart and it’s repetitive enough for the younger kids to scream along with abandon. Sara’s eyes keep sliding over to Alex throughout and if she shows off a little, well, that’s why she’s the face and leader of the band. The nurses come in to escort kids back to their rooms too soon and Sara passes out free autographed merch for all her new little fans.

It’s nice to just see Sara laughing and smiling again. Maybe it’s enough to know she’s okay. Maybe seeing her will make it easier to bury what they almost had. Alex tries to convince herself of exactly this as she starts to turn away.

“Dr. Danvers, are you about to sneak off on me _again_?”

Alex turns back around and the smile that blooms across her face at the sound of Sara’s teasing voice is too much to deny. “For the record, you ran off on me the last two times.”

“At least I left a note. And I didn’t just set you up for a Kids Bop sing along.”

“I did do that, didn’t I?” Alex winces playfully. “All jokes aside, this is really cool of you, being here, doing this. You are a natural with the kids.”

“Well, I do have five of my own. Six if you count Martin. He’s the crankiest especially when he doesn’t get his afternoon nap and the other kids annoy him for fun.”

Alex nods and takes in the healthy glow to Sara’s face. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too. Are you busy or could I buy you a cup of coffee?”

Alex knows this isn’t the place, but she has to ask. “Really? Even after everything?”

“I’m thinking especially after everything,” Sara says. “I was hammered that time in Central City, but I heard you and what you said… It helped…” She paves over the flash of vulnerability with a familiar smirk. “I don’t know, Danvers. Maybe I just really like you.”

She says it like it’s so simple when it feels like anything, but.

“Why? I mean, I was in denial for so long and then the things you said, I couldn’t… and the timing… and you’re so, you’re _you_. You’re a rock star!”

“And you save lives for a living. No, not intimidating at all.”

“It’s my job, but you, Sara, you’re _so_ special,” Alex says in a whisper. The teasing edge to Sara’s smirk softens. “You’re talented and the way those kids looked at you… Your music plays on the radio! Finally! And I—”

“You’re a smart, funny, badass surgeon.” Sara starts walking closer, every step completely balanced and precise. “You have a good heart. I’ve seen you with your sister. I’ve seen you with a bottle of scotch and I would like to see you on a more frequent, exclusive basis.” Sara’s eyes flash between Alex’s lips and her eyes. “If that’s what you want.”

Instead of answering right away, Alex looks from side to side. Before her head has a chance to catch up with her racing heart, she’s dragging Sara into a stairwell that’s thankfully empty and kissing her. An almost desperate, needy kiss that has Sara moaning and gripping Alex’s hips. They only pull away for a much needed breath before their lips meet again in a series of softer kisses filled with promise.

Alex laughs, resting her forehead against Sara’s. “I feel like one of those grossly unprofessional TV doctors who have sex in on-call rooms like horny teenagers.”

“I’ve always wondered if that was a real thing.” Sara slots her knee between Alex’s thighs and she has to bite her bottom lip to keep what little of her composure she has left.

“No.” Alex pecks Sara’s lips before backing away. “Not with me at least.”

Sara pouts, but manages to take Alex’s hand, threading their fingers together. “No on-call room sex. Got it. How about dinner?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe? What’s a girl gotta do to turn a maybe into a yes?”

“Answer me something.”

“I’m listening.”

Alex hesitates, but just for a second. “Your song… National City Girl… Was that…?”

“A big fucking bat signal to try to get your attention? Maybe. In my defense, it was for fun and wasn't supposed to even make the album, but The Suits got ahold of it and the rest was out of our control. And, yes, I‘m basically indebted to the band for the rest of eternity after they even agreed to record it, let lone it being our first mainstream single, but I'd say it's worth it.” Sara grins, so proud of herself. “Did you enjoy it?”

“It certainly got my attention.”  

“You should hear it unplugged and unclothed.”

Alex laughs, noticing how close they’re standing still. “You weren’t kidding about the seduction thing, were you?”

“I don’t mind playing the long game when I find someone worth it.” Sara steals another kiss, but backs off when they hear a heavy door a few floors above open and shut with a resounding sound. Alex quickly starts to right herself and smooths down her hair. Sara even helps, tugging on the hem of her scrubs. “You should probably get back to saving the world, doc.”

“I get off a little late for dinner,” Alex says. “Drinks tonight after my shift?”

“I’ll be here.”

“Don’t make me wait.”

“Oh, you want to talk about waiting, huh?”

Alex drags Sara into another kiss before she can get started. She thinks they were discrete enough that she can maintain face around the hospital just to be proven wrong by the disappointed looks from Nurse Carlisle and Intern Vasquez barely containing herself and asking Alex for Sara’s autograph.

 

…

 

Just like she said, Sara’s waiting in the hospital parking lot on a motorcycle because of course she has a motorcycle and looks cool riding it.

“Cool bike," Alex says, "but mine is cooler. I'm more of a classic girl 1962 to be exact." 

"Can't wait to take her for a spin." Sara holds out a second motorcycle helmet. 

"That is quite the assumption, Sara, Sara Lance." Alex fits the helmet over her head. "Where to?"

“Actually, there’s something I need to do and I’d really like it if you came with me.” 

Alex nods, doesn’t even care who might be around to see her leave with the tattooed musician who was entertaining pediatrics earlier in the day, just climbs aboard and holds on tight. 

They end up at S.T.A.R. Labs, which isn’t a scientific institute at all. It’s a tattoo studio.

“Sara Lance! Ciao bella!” The long-haired tattoo artist throws his arms up in greeting.

“Cisco,” Sara says, hugging the man in a black tee with VIBE$ across the chest. “Cisco, this is Alex. Alex, Cisco did my canaries tattoos and now he can’t get rid of me.”

“Nice to meet you,” Alex says.

“Aye! Any friend of Sara's is a member of the family around here!” Cisco shakes Alex’s hand with enthusiasm and warmth. He seems like the type who would prefer to hug, but restrains himself in an effort to be courteous. She appreciates that.

“And his partner in crime did the one on my hip. Where is Caitlin anyway? She’s the one who scheduled my session.”

“She’s finishing up with Ramirez, an Oliver Queen referral, in the back. The guy’s making good on a bet that he’d get a Star City Stars tattoo if they won the Stanley Cup,” Cisco explains. “She finished the design you discussed this morning. Wanna take a look at the stencil, finalize, before we get started?”

“No.” Sara ties her hair up and lets her leather jacket slip from her shoulders, tossing it to Alex. The black tank top she’s wearing shows off her tattooed arm and back shoulder in all their glory. “I trust you and Snow. Neither of you have steered me wrong yet.”

“Alright, alright,” Cisco says in what might be a Mcconaughey impersonation. “And you, my new friend.” Cisco offers Alex a chair and pushes a phone into her hands, a music app open on the screen. “You get to pick the music.”

“Ooooh,” Sara teases, making herself comfortable on one of the leather seats. “Not to scare you, but this is totally a test.”

“Nah.” Cisco waves off the suggestion. “Sara judges my taste in music all the time.”

The blonde tilts her head to one side thoughtfully. “Should sounds that play in the background of video games even be considered music, though?”

Before this can turn into a whole debate, Alex chooses a song. They both recognize it immediately. “Pilot, Part 1” is the first song the Legends ever put out into the universe, back when Lance and the Legends were known as Legends of Tomorrow.

(A band name change Sara still seems a big bashful about, but Alex supports 100%. After all, it’s what sparked her interest in the first place.)

“Such a kissass, Danvers.” Sara kicks at Alex’s comfortable, practical Danskos with the toes of her heavy boots. “I like it.”

“This is vintage Legends.” Cisco nods his head along to the infectious pop rock beat as he continues his prep. “This is before Rip and the Egyptian hawk soulmates tattoo guy stole my girl and they all bailed out. I can dig it. But I gotta say, with the new stuff, National City Girl is a _bop_.”

Before Sara can even laugh or comment, which she’s totally about to, Alex leans in and kisses her square on the lips. Less urgent and desperate than any of their other kisses, but still just as meaningful if not more.  

“Ready?” Cisco pulls on a plastic latex glove until they hear the snap.

“I was born ready,” Sara says, leaning her front against the leather chair so Cisco can get to her back.

“It’s unfair you’re cool enough to say things like that,” Alex says, her thumbs busy moving across the screen of Cisco’s phone, creating a playlist.

“Right?” Cisco’s voice goes higher, nearly shrill. “I say that to her all the time!”

They spend the better part of an hour with idle conversation while listening to music and the sound of the tattooing machine. Caitlin joins them not too long after, leaning over Cisco’s shoulder to supervise. Alex too watches as Cisco traces the shape of a police badge just below the nape of Sara’s neck. Inside is a circle and as Cisco shades and adds a mix of blues and greens and white, it becomes a planet.

“Your dad?” Alex asks before she even realizes she said anything.

“Yup.” Sara meets her eyes out of the side of her own, trying to stay as still as she can. “When I came out to my dad, I was terrified of what he’d think. He was a traditional kind of guy so I thought he might be upset. Instead, he said after what I’d been through, the pain and loneliness, he was just happy to hear I had someone that cared about me. He always had my back no matter what.”

Sara’s eyes flicker to her dagger tattoo. There’s a story there, a story for another time. Maybe Alex will even share how she both wishes she could have come out to her dad before he died, but is also relieved that she didn’t, afraid of his reaction, and the guilt she carries for feeling that way. They don’t need to get into it now. It’s okay. They have time.

Alex stretches her hand and takes Sara’s, their fingers lacing loosely and staying that way.

“So yeah,” Sara continues. “The outline is my dad’s badge and that’s Neptune in the center. Intuition, emotion, perception. That’s dad.”  

“That’s beautiful,” Caitlin says. “Why does Cisco get to do all the meaningful tattoos and I get stuck with the matching Legends tattoos?”

Sara presses her face into the back of the chair to hide her smile.

“That tattoo on your hip is for the Legends?” Alex blurts out. “You have a matching tattoo with Mick? How did you even convince Ray to? Please tell me Nate didn’t get a lower back tattoo like I think he might.”

“He talked a big game about getting it there or on his butt,” Caitlin replies.

“But he got it on his shoulder like every other basic white boy,” Sara says lovingly. “And we got Ray to agree completely sober, but we had to get him incredibly drunk to even get him through the door. This was all like an hour after we sold our souls to Luthor Records.” Sara smiles over at Alex. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, Danvers. We’re kind of a big, loud dysfunctional package.”

“You’ve met Kara, Lena and Winn, right? Kind of the same deal. Wait till you meet J’onn and my mom.”

Alex fumbles, worried she just pushed them a little too fast a little too soon with only a few words, but Sara just plays with her fingers. “I’d love to meet your mentor and your mom.”

When blue eyes meet brown, it’s kind of crazy (and exciting) how intense the need to kiss one person can be.

“Aw, how cute,” Cisco coos. “Okay, you convinced me. I ship it. I can’t wait to tattoo your names around each other’s ring fingers someday.”

“No, I get to do that one!” Caitlin shouts. “I call dibs!”

Alex has to smile as she sits back, letting her eyes trail over Sara’s hand in hers. She never thought she’d be the type to get a ring finger tattoo, has never really thought of it, but she does like the idea, especially when working in the OR and not allowed to wear any kind of ring or band, wedding or otherwise.

Not that she’s even thinking about marriage right now. She isn’t even close to considering that again. Not yet. All she knows is the way she feels when she looks at Sara and Sara looks right back. That’s real and worth taking it slow. They have time and even when they don’t, something tells her Sara will fight to make time if not make it stop completely and there’s nothing Alex wants more than to do the same.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to the Barenaked Ladies song "It's All Been Done" and thought about Caity Lotz's washed-out pink hair like a lot while writing this. I still love Agent Canary and will probably love them forever. 
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr.](http://beezyland.tumblr.com/)


End file.
